Find Your Way
by Ishte
Summary: Let me tell you a story of the final battle with Ultimecia, and the harrowing hours and days that followed that fight. A narration of the ending of FF VIII from my point of view as the story ended for me. Please review so I know what you though of it. TH


Author's Notes

This story is something really new for me. Rather than being strictly fanfiction, It's more like a narrative of the final moments and the final set of movies (FMV) from the game Final Fantasy VIII, created by Squaresoft. I have been a fan of these games for years since the original Final Fantasy was released by Square in 1990, but this is the first time I have ever created a narrative from one. Many of you may not know this, but the reason the game was called Final Fantasy in the first place was because it was the last, best hope for Square. Such a successful last ditch effort in fact that there have now been eight official titles with that name, and I have greatly enjoyed every one of them. Note: Now there have been twelve. Additionally, there are several related titles, as well as movies, re-releases, updates and so on.

The idea to write this was originally just to make an explanation of what happened at the end for a friend of mine. As I worked on it though, I found that it was a project that I was really enjoying. Thanks Kira! I want to thank Sarah too, for proofreading for me. I knew that since she had not played the game yet, an probably won't get to for some time, that she would be able to look at it more from the point of view of it being simply a story. Plus, I wanted it to be a surprise, even though everyone knew I was writing it.

Now, credit where credit is due: The Final Fantasy series is copyright Square Electronic Art LLC and licensed by Sony Computer Entertainment America. (and now that's Square Enix I guess…) All of the characters and scenarios presented are theirs. This is only my interpretation of what is already a masterwork. So don't sue me, Squeenix! Just accept the free advertising, and hire me as a writer when you get the idea to release a novel series based on Final Fantasy.

I'm posting this here on in one shot. Originally it was posted on my website in 9 short pages, but I think for this I'll just do it as a one shot with the different sections labeled. I am aware that this narrative has a lot of telling. That's mostly because of how it originated… as an intentional spoiler for someone who was frustrated at the end and wanted to know how it ended before she finished the game. So it's not something I put a lot of serious hard thought into developing. hahaha… But still review, I'd like to know if you enjoyed it… or hated it. I just thought it might be fun to add something different while I'm working on my FMA story: Chasing the Trail.

**Find Your Way**

**By: Kandilokai Ach Ishte**

**Chapter 1: Ultimecia Falls**

"Reflect upon your… childhood…" Ultimecia gasped. Her voice was strained but still strident as she struggled to cast Hell's Judgement yet again.

The onslaught of the spell dropped Squall to his knee as his consciousness wavered for a moment. On either side of him, he knew that Zell and Rinoa were in the same condition. It was just the three of them now. Quistis, Selphie and Irvine had already been thrown out of time by this monster of a woman. Squall could only hope that Rinoa would get her Curaga spells cast before the Sorceress threw anything else. She was fast, faster than he was, even if she had not hastened herself with magick. Trusting in her ability to do it, Squall dragged himself to his feet and ran full tilt towards his enemy. He launched into the Renzokuken maneuver that he had already executed countless times in the last hour. Strike, whirl, slash, leap, slash, slash, riposte, strike, cut, slash. He was exhausted beyond any exhaustion he had ever felt, but he still managed to draw the energy for the fated circle to end his attack. He dropped back to his knee, his gunblade resting on the ground before him. His breath was ragged as he struggled to regain his equilibrium.

"Your sensation…" Ultimecia continued as she had a moment before. "Your words… Your emotions…"

Squall felt the cooling relief flow through him as Rinoa finished her Curaga on the three of them. He was still weakened, and the aura Rinoa had placed on him earlier had gone, but the spell had improved his strength significantly. He glanced at her in thanks, and she nodded grimly, her beautiful face set with determination. He glanced at Zell, and saw that the other man had his eyes closed as he drew the energy to throw one of Ultimecia's own devastating spells, drawn right out of her being, back into her face. He watched in some awe, as the blue green light of the apocalypse spell surrounded the Sorceress consuming her energy.

Ultimecia flailed and struggled against the tremendous power of her own stolen spell, as Zell nodded in satisfaction at its success and returned to his normal fighting stance.

"Time…" Ultimecia cried out. "It will not wait…" Her hand rose above her head, sinuously twisting in the air as Rinoa was surrounded by the light of Holy.

Squall wanted to run to her as she stumbled forward a step, but she recovered in a moment shaking off the pain and quickly placed a new aura on Squall. He took advantage of it, and charged the Sorceress again, his gunblade a blur as he ran through the many strokes of his unique attack.

Zell completed the apocalypse spell and threw it again right on the tail of Squall's attack. Meanwhile, Rinoa cast her Curaga spell on the three of them once again, though at this point, it did nothing to improve Squall's still somewhat weakened condition. He knew that it had helped her and Zell, and that as long as she was tripled she may as well cast it on all three of them for good measure.

Ultimecia writhed in pain, as the pale green and blue light of Zell's apocalypse spell dissipated, but continued her tirade. Her voice was more strained now, as Squall backed away from her and began to plan his next attack. "No matter… how hard you hold on. It escapes you…" she screamed, as her terrible hell's judgement spell lashed out at the three of them again.

Squall found himself once again fighting to stay conscious, as his knee slammed painfully into the hard stone beneath him, gasping and blinking against the torment of the powerful magick. For a moment, he prayed that he would never feel such an appalling thing again. Then he dragged himself exhaustedly to his feet and somehow began to draw in the power he would need to unleash the Renzokuken upon the horrid woman again. Somehow, he knew that this would be his final assault. Either he would destroy her this time, or she would obliterate them.

"And…" Ultimecia said, her voice seeming weaker now. She seemed to be wavering.

Squall prayed that he was right, that this time his Renzokuken would hurt her enough to end this, and charged toward her a final time. As he landed on his feet, breathing hard, he knew he didn't have enough energy left to try the fated circle now. Instead he ran at her again and used the last of the energy he had drawn for the rough divide attack. His gunblade whipped up from behind him at the last moment and slashed upwards through her seemingly indestructible final form, the momentum carrying him upwards as well. He prayed that it would be enough. They could not possibly survive much longer.

Nor could Ultimecia, he realised as he dropped back, his legs giving out beneath him. He looked up and watched in some amazement, as the Sorceress, faceless in her assumed form, began to slowly explode and disintegrate, the magick of the time compression seeming to consume her from within. His final blow had weakened her enough that she could no longer sustain it, nor apparently even contain it.

Squall pushed himself upright, Zell coming to stand beside him still in his fighting stance. Rinoa was doing the same, though as Squall glanced at her to assure himself that she was all right, his vision began to distort, colors leaving trails and auras before his eyes. In a moment, everything was black and he could see nothing.

**Chapter 2: Lost in the Light**

Irvine found himself lying face down on a surface that he could not quite identify. It was white. That much was clear, but beyond that, he could hardly even say whether it was a hard surface or a soft one. Carefully he pushed himself to his knees and soon had his feet under him. For a moment, he stood swaying, one hand pressed to his eyes, the glare of this white place nearly overwhelming him. It was too bright, misty whiteness everywhere. At first he had thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but when he dropped his hand again, he still couldn't see clearly.

"Is it over?" he asked aloud clasping his hands together for a moment. His nerves were frayed, and he was chagrined to hear it in his own voice as it echoed back to him. His hand reached up to find his black cowboy hat still on his head. He held it there for a moment, trying to assure himself that something was tangible in this place, as he looked left and then right. His head hurt, that was almost tangible, and besides the blinding whiteness, his vision was filled with trails and after images as he moved his hand in front of him. The others had to be here somewhere. Didn't they? "Let's go!" he called into the white emptiness, hoping to hear something in response. "Let's go back to our time!" His voice still betrayed a hint of his alarm as he stepped forward a few steps into the white nothingness, his boots echoing dully around him.

Selphie ran past Irvine far to his left as if she hadn't quite seen him. Zell followed her, but he was closer, and stopped for a moment when he saw Irvine. "Shut up!" the blonde man cried seeming exasperated with the situation, and more than a little upset himself. "Just calm down and think where we have to go."

Selphie reappeared from a different direction. Apparently space was distorted here as well. She seemed calmer though, as she glanced slowly from left to right. "Careful guys!" she called to Zell and Irvine. "Don't pick the wrong time."

"Whatever you do, don't fall into a time warp!" Quistis voice was clear as she appeared for a moment running in front of the others, across their line of sight, before she disappeared again into the misty white of this place.

Selphie jumped and waved to her, but Quistis did not seem to see her. After a moment, Selphie began to run after her, hoping to bring them all together.

Rinoa ran through the misty whiteness as well. She could hear the voices of the others echoing faintly, but she could not see any of them, and she was unsure of the direction from which they had come. They seemed to be all around her, yet far away. "Time…" she said quietly to herself as she ran. "Place… Who I wanna be with…" she continued thoughtfully. "I wanna go there. Where Squall and I promised." She spread her arms out for a moment as she ran and then stopped abruptly dropping her hands to her sides. She gazed around in confusion, her left hand rising to the chain around her neck and the pair of rings suspended there. Her plain jade one, and his silver one, carved with a stylized lion. She gazed at the rings for a moment before clasping them in her fist. "Squall!"

**Chapter 3: Lost in the Dark**

Squall stopped short when he heard Rinoa's voice nearby. He stared around in the endless blackness. If it were not for the fact that he could see himself, he might have thought that he had gone blind at the sight of Ultimecia's demise.

"Squall!" Her voice came again out of the black void around him. "Let's go home! Where are you!?"

Squall stared right and then left, trying to find something to identify his position. He clenched his fists in front of him and then flung them down again in frustration. Where am I? he thought angrily. He took a few steps in the direction from which he thought Rinoa's voice had come.

"Squall! Where are you going?"

It was from behind him. He stopped again. It was not Rinoa's voice this time. Was it? This place seemed to distort his hearing as well as his vision. Squall spun towards the source of the voice. A small boy, about four years old ran past him, tears streaming from his eyes. He seemed familiar… He looked like… Me… Squall realised as he turned to watch the boy.

The boy stopped right in front of Squall, seemingly oblivious to the man's presence. He slammed his hands onto his hips defiantly and stated, "I'm going to find Sis!" He rubbed his nose with the same defiance and ran into the depths of the blackness until he disappeared there.

"Squall!" A woman called from the where the boy had just come, distress clear in her voice. She slowed to a walk unable to catch the boy as he fled.

Squall turned to her at the sound of his name being called. The owner of the voice was a familiar figure, a tall willowy woman, taller than Squall in fact. She was delicate of feature and frame, clad in a deep grey slip dress, her shining black hair flowing like a river of night down her back. Edea.

Matron. The name came unbidden to Squall's mind as he stared at her. She took a few more steps towards him, as the blackness began to fade. In a moment, he found himself in the front garden of the old orphanage. Edea's House. The walk was overgrown as always, and ivy ran rampant up and around the old crumbling stone columns. The pillars' demise, undoubtedly the very ivy which clung to them so beautifully.

Edea turned to Squall, without recognizing him. "Excuse me," she said softly, "Have you seen a little boy?"

"You don't have to worry," Squall told her, gesturing briefly over his shoulder with one hand. "The boy won't go anywhere."

"I think so too," Edea agreed, quickly brushing the tears from her cheeks. "Poor thing…"

Something caught Squall's eye behind Edea. A pinkish mist had begun to rise from the ground and something materializing within it. Edea following his gaze spun to look as Squall drew his weapon. Ultimecia! He thought his mind racing. "You're alive!" It was beyond belief that she had appeared here.

"The Sorceress?" Edea asked turning to him slightly.

"Yes, Matron," Squall answered keeping his gunblade at the ready.

Ultimecia began to stagger towards them as the pinkish smoke dissipated. It was clear that she was barely able to stand, her black wings tattered and torn, unable to fold completely to her sides now.

Even so, Squall remained ready, though he was hardly in much better shape himself really, he did not know how much his defense would be worth, but he was ready to try. "We had defeated her," he said keeping his eyes on the Sorceress as she continued to drag herself towards them. "Matron, stand back!"

"It's ok," Edea said softly, turning towards Squall. She clasped her hands at her throat for a moment before continuing. "There's no need to fight." She dropped her hands. "That Sorceress is just looking for someone to pass her powers on to. In order to die in peace, a Sorceress must be free of all her powers. I know…" she touched her chest briefly "for I am one too."

Ultimecia had stopped now, and stood swaying several steps away, waiting, watching. Waiting for Edea. Watching Squall and his drawn blade.

Edea crossed her arms in front of her for a moment and shrugged. "I shall take over that Sorceress' powers. I do not want one of the children to become one," she added as she turned and walked towards Ultimecia.

"I… can't… disappear yet." Ultimecia croaked miserably.

Squall sheathed his gunblade, but was still wary of the damaged Sorceress before him. "Matron!"

Suddenly an intense fuchsia light emanated from Ultimecia as she was lifted from the ground. The light sparked and flowed into Edea as powers were passed from one sorceress to the other. The force of the exchange knocked Squall back a bit, causing him to stagger for a moment in his weakened state. As he recovered his footing, he was forced to shield his eyes from the glare with his right hand. The whole thing was finished in another blink of his eyes. For a moment, everything was white as Ultimecia descended and then slumped to the earth, disappearing in another mist of pink and red smoke.

Squall took a hesitant step forward as Edea swayed, but when she dropped to her knees, catching herself from falling with her outstretched arms, Squall ran and knelt on one knee beside her.

"Is this… the end?" she asked seemingly only half conscious.

"Most likely," he answered, not knowing what else he should say.

Edea raised herself a little and looked closely at Squall. His right arm was resting across his knee, close to her, and she grasped his gloved hand. "You called me Matron. Who…" she paused looking more closely at him as if she saw something familiar, "are you?" she finished finally.

Squall gestured towards the ocean, where the Garden would have been if he had been in his own time. His hand flipped as if he were throwing something away from him as he remembered that, clearly, he was not. "A SeeD," he answered after a moment of thought. "From Balamb Garden.

"SeeD? Garden?"

Squall let his arm come to rest across his knee again. "Both Garden and SeeD were your ideas" he answered her. "Garden trains SeeDs. SeeDs are trained to defeat the Sorceress."

Edea pulled herself to her feet, still studying him closely. "What are you saying?"

Squall rose as well, but remained facing slightly away from her. He was uncertain whether she should even know who he really was. Would it change the future for her to know?

"You're…" Edea studied him as the truth dawned on her. "That boy," she gestured behind her in the direction the boy had run. "From the future!"

"…Matron," he said turning to face her more fully.

"Please return." She said her voice shaking with worry. "You do not belong here.

The boy in question ran into the front garden and stood behind Edea. "I can't find Sis!" he cried miserably.

Edea turned and sat on her heels in front of the boy, taking his hands for a moment.

"Am I… All alone?" he sniffed. He shifted his gaze then to Squall. "Who's he?"

"Nobody," Edea answered him, stroking his hair. "You don't need to know." She stood and looked down at him smiling. "The only Squall permitted here is you." She turned on her heel and faced Squall. "Do you know where to go back to? Do you know how?" she asked leaning towards him with concern in her eyes for the man her little charge would one day become. "Will you be all right by yourself?"

Tired as he was, Squall drew himself to attention for a moment and saluted her as a SeeD. Let that be his answer to her. He did not speak, though the thoughts were clear in his mind. I'll be alright Matron. He lowered his hand as the garden of Edea, the boy and his Matron faded out of existence and he found himself in the black void again. Because I'm not alone.

I'm not alone…If I call out, they will answer…

Squall stared around him, still straining to see something, someone, anything. "Where is everyone?" he called at last, fighting the fear, and his own hesitancy to call for help. "Rinoa! Where are you?" He clenched his fists at his sides and turned calling again. "Zell! Selphie! Quistis! Irvine!" He raised his hands to his mouth for a moment, "Rinoa!!" and dropped them again in frustration. Nothing. Not a sound. His shoulders sagged as he hung his head, and stared at the tops of his boots. …Am I… alone? He started to run again. Anything to fight this fear and rage welling in him at his utterly helpless state. Rinoa, I want to hear your voice, he thought desperately. Which way…do I go?

He dropped to his knees in exhaustion, totally spent from running and the battle only recently won. He caught himself with his hands, his whole body screaming of defeat and loss. I can't make it back… alone. After he had rested awhile, perhaps without even realizing it, he was up again and running once more. Rinoa? He stopped looking desperately from left to right and back to left again. Am I… all alone again? He dismissed the thought with an angry gesture of downward flung arms. There had to be a way to get back. He just had to think of it. He had to figure this out. Where am I!? His mind screamed at him.

**Chapter 4: Defeat**

Squall's vision distorted horribly for a moment, then cleared, then bent again until finally, it resolved into… something. He was unsure what he was seeing, but at least he could see something besides blackness everywhere. Still, there was not much here at all. Beneath his feet was hard, parched earth, cracked and broken like the desert baked under the sun for days after the rarity of a rain. His vision swam again for a few seconds, as if he were not yet completely in this place and then it cleared again, though still, not totally. The cracked earth spread for what appeared to be miles in every direction as Squall turned trying to find his bearings. Overhead, the sky roiled angrily in greyish greenish, clouds. Squall gasped slightly as he realised that he could see nothing besides this desert and this mist as far as his eyes could reach. At the edges of his field of vision, the mist swirled as it did above him.

He hung his head slightly and sighed. Still utterly alone. He was so tired. How could he possibly hope to walk away from here? Already he was swaying on his feet, barely able to stand. His eyes refused to focus. For a moment, he was sure he would faint, but he shook it off, blinking himself clear-headed again. I've got to think. He told himself. I'm supposed to go somewhere. What am I… What am I doing here? He was too exhausted even to scowl as he continued to look desperately for some landmark, something to identify his position. His face had changed since first he had set out from Balamb Garden. He was older. There was a gaunt quality to his face. It had not been there a few months before. His expression was pinched with pain now. Tiredly, he turned and began walking. His pace was slow, his gait unsteady and swaying as that of a man who has spent too long on his feet. Each step was an agony.

Squall continued in the same direction for several hours. He had no conception of the time. The sun was obscured by the sickening swirling mist above and around him. He was limping slightly now, each foot sending searing pain up its respective leg with each tortuous step so that he could hardly favor one over the other. Perhaps his right hurt a little more than his left. Perhaps not, he was loath to put his full weight on his left heel at all now. Where am I going? His eyes were heavy, as if he could barely keep them open, his shoulders sagging. What was I supposed to do? His expression was one of a man so utterly lost that no other thought was present in his mind. He walked, trying to continue in one direction. His weary glance turned slowly from one side to the other, but with each shift in his gaze, he staggered a little in the direction of his stare. It was all he could do to remain awake and continue dragging one foot in front of the other.

Walking in a straight line was no longer a thought that occurred to him, as the hours continued their slow march alongside his stumbling footsteps. It has be getting dark soon, He thought absently. It did not matter… only to place one foot before the next. His expression spoke volumes of faintness and want of sleep. He was thirsty. He blinked his eyes to keep them focussed on the ground in front of him, his gait unsteady. Not even the murky horizon mattered anymore. It was all he could do now to drag each foot forward in its turn. He stumbled, his right foot catching on a crack in the ground and then crossing in front of his left as he corrected his lost balance. Somehow, he managed to stay on his feet and continue his trek.

Squall's pace slowed considerably during the next hour. He walked as if he were asleep, one foot mechanically falling in front of the next. The sound of this boots on the ground was uneven and out of time. His shoulders were slumped, his arms hanging without strength at his sides. His head bowed with exhaustion, as he studied each agonizing footstep. He staggered to his right, one knee nearly collapsing beneath him, but after a few more tripping steps, he somehow managed to right himself, bent beneath the burden of his own weight, and his extreme fatigue.

At last, the never ending plod of his feet came to a stop, dragging themselves forward only a few inches at a time now. Squall stood swaying for a moment, faint and weary. He had been walking for so long, that though he was standing still now, he felt as if he were still in motion and it dizzied him. The swirl of the mists did not help in the least. I was supposed to go somewhere… The thought rose unbidden as he stared into the grey-green swirls and over the edge of the precipice upon which he now stood. It was this edge which had stopped his forward progress. How am I supposed to get there now? There was no possible way that he could climb down from here. He could not even see the ground through the rolling mist.

His worn face steeped in disappointment, Squall tore his gaze from the edge and turned away from it. His eyes were swollen slightly with his need for rest and sleep. He was thirsty. He would have to go the other way. He struggled to keep his weary mind focussed on his purpose. What was I supposed to do? He had forgotten. Where am I supposed to go? He knew he could remember if he tried. He was just too tired to think clearly. That was all. Where am I? He blinked in disbelief as he turned back the way he had come, straightening a little and gasping in confusion at what he saw. All those seemingly endless miles he had walked, so many hours across this dry, broken ground. Now he could see nothing but precipice all around him. Ten strides in any direction would bring him to yet another impassible edge.

Beyond that edge, in every direction the mist surrounded him above, below and beyond. This small chunk of dry barren rock had become his entire world, his whole life, his very being. Dizziness and confusion washed through Squall at this realization, as he stumbled blindly back from the edge. He lowered his head, fighting the faintness, his ears ringing. His left leg buckled beneath him and he fell hard, landing on his rump. He sat, his shoulders bowed, his head hanging as he struggled to stay conscious. His whole body screamed for rest. His entire bearing was one of complete and utter defeat as he tried desperately to remember… something.

What am I doing?

Where am I?

Who was I supposed to meet?

Who am I?

The image of a young woman filled Squall's mind. She was running through a field of green grass and wild flowers. The sky threatened a downpour, his own namesake. That's who I am. Squall. But who is she. She's important. Important to me. She was a beautiful girl, dressed in blue and black. Trailing behind her and tied across her bosom was a long jacket of sorts, woven from a soft pliant material, which fluttered in the rising wind of the threatening storm. Her forearms were wrapped in sleeves after a fashion made of the same material. The biceps of one of her arms had a thin strip of black cloth tied around it. Her hair was dark, and like the skirt of her jacket, it was whipped by the wind. It was lovely and rich and the streaks of gold in it somehow made it seem even more lovely to Squall as he watched the image of her. She seemed distressed, as she continued to run through the field, anxiously looking this way and that. The deep, dark pools of her eyes filled with concern, fear, and sorrow, as if she had lost something precious to her. Something she seemed to need to find quickly. There was an unmistakable urgency in the way she ran, her eyes searching constantly.

Who is she? He knew that he should know, and if he could just stand here and watch her for long enough, it would come to him. He would remember. As he watched her, she stopped running and stared at the threatening storm for a moment. Her head dropped and she raised a hand to her bosom to gaze at something clasped there in her hand. Squall knew what was there. He felt the memory stir, but his dazed, tired mind could not quite latch onto it.

I was supposed to go somewhere…Do something… With her…

Squall pulled himself awake again for a moment. Was I sleeping? No. It had not felt like sleep. It had been more like a waking dream. He fought to recall it. Something caught his eye. Motion, above and to his right. He raised his head to look at it. It was a feather, white as white, drifting slowly, slowly down from the swirl of mist. Surprise registered on his face through the exhaustion there. That half recalled dream that he had dreamed so many times, never quite recalling upon awakening, the face of the one who owned the feather. But he had met her… hadn't he? He knew her now. Why can't I remember?

He struggled with it as he watched the feather slowly drift down to him as if it were searching for him. It landed right in Squall's hand and he clasped it within his palm as the memory came flooding back. Rinoa… His consciousness blurred and for a moment, he stood in the field with her. No longer the stormy sky, but sunset in violent reds and yellows. He stood behind her for a few seconds unmoving, almost convinced that just the briefest moment he had seen her unfold white wings behind her, snow white feathers flying from them before they faded. Then there was only Rinoa, standing with her back to him a few paces away, her hair and the skirt of her soft jacket blowing in the gentle breeze along with the petals of the wild flowers surrounding her.

For a time, all he could do was stand and watch her, afraid she would disappear. "Rinoa!" He called out to her at last, needing for her to hear him, needing for her to see him, needing to see her face, to hear her voice. More than anything in the world, he wanted to hear her voice.

She did not turn. She did not hear him calling her only a few steps away. "Rinoa?" He called again, his throat tight with emotion. His face clouded with bewilderment and pain. He blinked away the tears that had risen unbidden when she did not turn. Am I wrong? Is it… not her? Why doesn't she look at me? Then she did. Slowly the girl turned to face him. She was smiling as she did so, but then before she had turned all the way, her face was obscured by something. His vision was distorted, so that he could not see her clearly.

Desperately he sought another image of her in his mind. Instead, for the sparest of seconds, the face of a man was there: A man with blond and closely cropped hair, a scar slanting across the bridge of his nose, his face mocking. I know him. Seifer. He had given Squall an almost identical scar, only moments before he had gotten his by Squall's own hand. Squall ripped the image from his mind, clenching the feather in his fist. That was all unimportant. He concentrated on the only thing that mattered. Her. It had to be her.

Another image came to mind. A dance. It was a dance of some sort, he was sure of it. Graduation… That was it. His graduation. She had been there. He had been watching a shooting star until she had come into his peripheral vision. Admittedly, he had first noticed her because she too had been watching the meteor. So lovely had she been though, that she had held his eye for much longer than he would normally have looked. Squall the reclusive one. She had turned and caught him staring at her. He remembered it clearly, but now as he studied the memory over and over, he found that each time she turned in his memory, her face was obscured somehow. Now by a shadow. Now blurred. Now as if there were water between them. Now almost invisible. As he continued to struggle with it, the distortions seemed to worsen. Other images began to interpose themselves with this one. Each time obscured, distorted. Squall could not remember her face clearly. Now the image of her in his memory of the dance was beginning to fade out altogether, as if she had never been there at all. What is happening?

More images began to invade now. Squall was loosing his concentration. He was too tired. He was too weak. The memories fell one on top of another. Some frightening mechanical horror chasing him. A woman with long blonde hair and glasses. A young man with a strange tattoo on one side of his face, gesturing for him to hurry. Rinoa's face. Just for the briefest of flashes it was clear. Before he could focus on it, it was gone, replaced with a girl with green eyes, her reddish hair styled in a sweeping flip. Another young man with a rifle resting on his shoulder and a gentle encouraging smile. A ship. A red ship. Rinoa again, her face again obscured. A flash of Seifer pushing Rinoa in front of him, but again the image was unclear. Space. Rinoa drifting in a space suit, but he could not see her.

One of his memories had to be clear. Why couldn't he remember her face? What is wrong with me? What am I supposed to do? The images flashed faster and faster, more obscured and more confused until they were all running together, the placement wrong the setting wrong. So tired. It was too much. He was so dizzy now. I don't understand… I'm so confused… Someone tell me what to do… His head swam. Where am I? His eyes fluttered. Am I all alone?

A new image came to mind now, this one with perfect clarity. He could see Rinoa, plain as day now. Floating before him in her space suit. The visor of her helmet shattered by the force of the lunar cry. The chain around her neck floating with two rings threaded on it. Her simple ring of jade and his silver ring with the lion carving on it. Her eyes closed, her beautiful features forever frozen by the bitter cold of space. Never to see those eyes again. Squall understood now why he could not see the other images clearly. None of them mattered because she was gone. That was the only explanation for it. The reality of it hit hard, bringing him bolt upright for a moment, his eyes wide with the shock of knowing that she was dead and he had forgotten. The ringing in his ears rose in volume until he could hear nothing. The shock was too much. How could he have forgotten something like that? He felt his consciousness going, powerless to stop it. He was dying. He knew that now. Moisture filled his eyes. Regret. It had to be real. It was the only image left undistorted. How could he forget something like that? He would die in this barren place just as she had died. He knew that now. I can't accept that! I won't!!

Eyes still wide with shock even as Squall's consciousness ebbed, a tear trailed down one cheek. A small, agonized cry escaped him, as his body fell backwards onto the hard cracked ground and lay still. The feather left his hand, slowly drifting to the ground beside his still form.

**Chapter 5: Sorrow**

Rinoa had searched for hours under the stormy skies, in the expansive fields outside Edea's house. She was sure this was where she and Squall had wanted to be; where they had promised to be if they were separated. Yet, she could not find him there. She paused for a moment grasping his ring with her own in her palm, closing her eyes in concentration. She could feel him nearby, but at the same time, he seemed terribly far away.

She had come to this place easily enough. She had concentrated on where she wanted to be and found herself here. What if it had not been so easy for Squall? Rinoa had her sorcery to help her, and Angelo. She had not used the Guardian Forces for as long or as extensively as Squall had. What if he had forgotten where they had promised to meet? He had forgotten things before. He had been so exhausted at the end of the battle with Ultimecia. She had been unable to heal him completely before the end. After that, there had been no opportunity.

Rinoa thought of her dream; and how frightening it had been. What if Squall is there in that place now? She pushed that thought out of her mind for a moment and concentrated on him, clutching his ring in her small hand.

"Rinoa!" His voice. Calling to her. It seemed so far away. She concentrated on it, and the feeling it invoked in her. "Rinoa?" This time he sounded like he was right behind her, his voice so filled with hurt and confusion that she turned. Squall was not there, but neither was she in the place she had been a moment before. She was in a harsh, barren place, the desert of her dream. Squall was here. She could feel it. Rinoa began to walk quickly, knowing where she would find him; concentrating on that.

It did not take long. Rinoa found Squall lying on his back on the cold stone. His eyes were closed and his face was turned slightly towards her. Squall's face in repose held such innocence, yet there was still a slight frown to his features. It reminded her of the time she had come to his room to get him and found him sleeping. He had sat up immediately, and denied that he had been sleeping, but she had seen his resting face, just as it was now.

This time though, he did not awaken as she approached, and Rinoa's face clouded with concern as she looked down upon his prone form. Squall was a light sleeper. That had been evident when he had been so fully awake so quickly that time before. He had been exhausted then too, but had awakened almost before she could see he had been asleep.

Slowly, carefully, Rinoa knelt on the stone beside him. He still did not stir, even when she gently lifted him, cradling his head in her left arm and sliding her knees under him to support his shoulders. He was heavy; heavier than he looked at any rate, but the weight meant nothing to Rinoa as she held him. She tried to brush the unruly strands of his hair back from his sweet face; not that it made any difference. They were stubborn, and by the time her hand had passed along his cheek, they had fallen back into their usual place.

"Squall," Rinoa called gently, her voice little more than a whisper. He did not respond at all, even as she rocked him slightly. She was not entirely certain that he was even breathing. Her hand strayed worriedly to his chest, her frown deepening as she felt for signs of life. He should have wakened if for no other reason than the fact that he was not used to being held like this. Even now, Rinoa still could not tell if he was breathing. For all she could tell, he was already gone from her, he lay so still in her arms. She tried to blink back the tears that filled her dark eyes with the realization. She could not stop them, nor could she stop the sob that wracked her, as she buried her face in the fur collar of his old leather bomber jacket. She pulled him to her and wept over him, unaware for a time of anything other than her own anguish.

When at last Rinoa raised her head, she realised that the sky was clearing around them. The barren ground became a rapidly expanding field of flowers with the two of them as the central figures as the clouds rushed away from them. The wind blew vibrant fuchsia petals all around them, as Rinoa held Squall's lifeless form.

Rinoa forgot her tears for a moment and watched in amazement, as the heavy rolling clouds seemed to recoil from them. Their retreat took any trace of the other place away with them. Had she done this? Had she somehow managed to bring them back here to the rich fields near Edea's House? She turned her gaze back to Squall as he lay limp and unmoving in her arms. She did not want to think about living with him gone. As she gazed into his face, she tried to keep that thought from her mind and think about what was happening now, in this place. She stroked his cheek, longing to gaze into Squall's deep blue eyes just one more time.

**Chapter 6: Redemption**

The red and white sphere of a float sat almost motionless in the placid waters. Seifer scowled at it from the pier. Not a nibble. Not one bite all day. He sat with one hand on his knee and one lax on his fishing rod, starting out at the surface with the float bobbing ever so slightly there. He leaned forward a little to scowl at it more deeply. In a moment, though, he found himself chuckling at himself for doing it. This was what he had come to now? Trying to intimidate his fishing tackle? He could not even catch a fish.

A slight commotion behind him caught his attention and he glanced over his shoulder curiously. Raijin stood there, his large frame dancing with excitement. In one hand, he held his own fishing pole, and in the other, a decent sized red and white fish still attached to the line as he waved it around excitedly.

Fujin was chuckling at Raijin's antics. "GOOD," she said, back to speaking in her usual manner. "LARGE. DINNER."

Seifer turned, rising and violently throwing his pole to the wooden pier in one fluid motion. Raijin failed to notice the angry frown on his friend's face as he continued trying to get a better grip on the wriggling fish. Fujin saw it though. She turned towards Seifer as he clenched is fist in irritation, her hands behind her back as was her habitual way of standing. She shrugged slightly, one arm pointing towards Raijin for a spare brevity of a moment before it returned to its usual place. "FISH," she said lamely. When this did nothing to appease her long time friend, she suddenly turned towards Raijin. Her face calm, her hands never straying from behind her back, she lifted one foot and planted it firmly in Raijin's backside, sending him flailing into the water, fish, pole and all.

Seifer threw his head back and laughed; really laughed for the first time in what seemed like a very long time. That really had not been necessary, but it was terribly funny. It felt good to laugh again and mean it. He clasped his arms around himself and giggled until his ribs hurt from it, his eyes watering with glee.

As Seifer struggled to regain his composure, he felt a shadow pass over them and lifted his head, his face serious again. Balamb Garden was passing overhead. Seifer watched it thoughtfully. He understood now where he had gone wrong. He had thought he was doing the right thing when he had gone to Timber to help Rinoa. Then things had suddenly become very confusing, and obfuscated. He had become a knight, his dream, but in reality, he had become little more than a pawn in a much bigger game. He had been powerless to correct that role, trapped as he was under the power of the Sorceress. He understood that now. He was free of it at last, and as his pale blue-green eyes focussed on the Garden moving away from them, a spare, thoughtful smile crept across his features. Perhaps he would go back there one day.

**Chapter 7: Overlooking Time**

Laguna gazed up at the blueness of the sky. Soft white clouds floated here and there, breaking up the azure field. He stood once more in the farmlands and fields of Winhill. Too long, he had stayed away from here. He was older now. In only a few years, he would be fifty. Streaks of silver showed here and there now in his dark hair. Most of it was caught in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, but some of it still cascaded down the side of his face as it always had, ever finding its way into his green eyes.

He smiled easily as he watched a feather float on the wind in front of him. His eyes followed it for a short while before he dropped his gaze to his hand, and the ring circling the third finger there. Being here brought back memories, that was for sure. He found himself contemplating a much younger version of himself. He had stood in this very field long ago, gazing absently at the same ring around his finger. It seemed so long ago, nearly twenty years now.

Night was falling, the first stars just beginning to appear. As he stood there thinking, Raine came down the path looking for him. He had asked her to meet him there, but he was so lost in thought, that he jumped when she called his name from behind him. He turned blinking in surprise, her lovely face immediately bringing a smile to his face.

"What's on your mind?" she asked, her eyes shining with amusement at having startled him so. They were so blue; as blue as the sky above him, but deeper.

Laguna buried a hand in his long hair and scratched his head, embarrassed. He wanted to tell her something, but now he could not find the words. Now he stood pondering how he, a man of words, could be at such a loss for them. Raine's eyes widened a little, and she cocked her head, surprised to see Laguna's normal effervescence turn so serious. He straightened suddenly when he realised that her eyes were on him, feeling a little flustered. "Aw!" he waved his hand dismissively. "It's nothing."

He turned on his heel, as if to go, but Laguna only managed two steps before Raine caught up with him, calling his name. He turned, rather abruptly, his face serious again. Before he could think himself out of it this time, he took her hand in his and slipped a simple gold ring on her finger.

"Oh, my!" Raine whispered, staring at the ring with wide eyes as she raised her hand to look at it. For a moment, she just stared at it, turning her hand back and forth slightly. Then slowly, a smile came to her face. She clasped her hands in front of her, keeping the ring in clear view the whole time, as if she were afraid that it would disappear if she took her eyes from it. Finally though, she lifted her face, her eyes brimming with tears of joy.

Laguna just watched her for a moment before raising his own hand. "See?" he indicated his own ring, identical to the one he had given her. She held up her hand the same way in answer. A moment later, she threw herself into his arms weeping with joy. Laguna held her like that for a long time, filled with more happiness than he had ever felt in his life.

"Laguna," she sighed happily.

"Raine," he murmured in answer, burying his cheek in her smooth dark hair.

Laguna smiled at the memory as he followed the path across the field with his hands tucked into the pockets of his tan pants. He slowed his pace as he approached a stone marker on the ground in front of him. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he sat on his heels to look at it.

His smile never faded really, though it became a little wistful as he reached out to rub his fingers over the name engraved on the stone, his mind filled with pleasant memories of long ago. Raine Loire. He still missed her even after so long. So much had happened. He focussed on the happy times, but the smile had become a melancholy one at best. "Raine," he whispered softly.

"Laguna!"

Laguna turned at the sound of his name. A young woman was coming down the hill, following the path towards him. She waved, her smile brightening his mood a bit.

"Hi Ellone," he said returning the wave a little hesitantly. He had not expected her here. Glancing up the hill, he could see Ward and Kiros standing at the top. They had known where he would be. They must have brought Ellone to join him.

Just as he was about to ask her, Ellone's gaze shifted to some place above and behind him. After a moment, Laguna heard a sound that he could not quite identify. It caused him to turn in the direction she had been looking.

Overhead, a little ways in front of him, Balamb Garden passed. Laguna watched it with some amount of awe, the ornate glowing rings that were a part of its hovering system rotating lazily beneath it, as it slowly changed its heading and turned towards the sea.

**Chapter 8: Recording for Posterity**

Selphie turned on her video camera, peering into the lens so that for a moment all it recorded was one vibrant green eye. She hoped that the battery was charged and that she had it at the right angle as she held it at arms length and smiled for the camera. Now with a little jostling, she turned the recorder around just in time to catch Irvine dancing some silly energetic dance in front of Quistis.

Quistis herself looked rather unimpressed by his display, and even a little annoyed by him until she realized that she was in the spotlight herself. She turned pursing her lips demurely before she waved and offered a slight smile. It only lasted for a few seconds, as Irvine's laughing face appeared in front of hers, he having ducked beneath the view of the camera's eye and then come from the bottom of the scene in Selphie's monitor.

Quistis' expression changed quickly to annoyance as she pushed Irvine out of her limelight, only to have him grab her playfully around the shoulders. He plied her with some of his usual flattery, while she kept her face hidden beneath her hair. She put up with his silliness for only a few seconds, before giving him a hard annoyed shove and stalking away from him.

Selphie kept the camera on Irvine as he waked after her a few steps. His face serious now, as he turned towards Selphie with his hands on his hips. It was clear in his face that he had not meant to make Quistis angry. He had only been trying to lighten her mood, which had been rather gloomy considering that this was a party. It was even more evident, when he tipped his head and motioned with his eyes that Selphie should follow Quistis with the camera. More than likely, he just wanted it off him himself after the strong rebuff.

Selphie decided to do as he asked and caught up with Quistis. She was walking with great dignity towards the Headmaster, Cid Kramer. The headmaster himself had been alternately watching the night sky and chucking at the jokes and antics of a small group of cadets and SeeDs a little to his right. As Quistis approached him, he turned towards her, still laughing and greeted her with great warmth.

Despite her irritated demeanor, Cid had her laughing along with him in only a short while, then as he continued to laugh he caught sight of Selphie and her camera over Quistis' shoulder, raising his glass in salute. Quistis turned for just a moment to find that she was still the not-so-willing subject of the camera's eye. When she turned back to Cid, she found that he had turned away from her as he caught sight of someone else.

Selphie followed his gaze with her camera, and found at first a pair of feet. As she zoomed out from them, she realized that it was Edea Kramer, dressed in the dark, charcoal slip dress that she favored. She bowed slightly to her husband, before walking over to him. Cid met her halfway, putting an affectionate arm around her as he pulled her with him back to Quistis. In a moment, Edea was laughing right along with her husband. It seemed that when he was not so busy with the smooth running of Balamb Garden, that Cid could tell a decent joke or two. Selphie was standing too far away to catch what he was saying. She zoomed in on them. Cid and his wife shared a glance as they laughed together, that promised joy of a more private sort after the party was finished.

When they looked back at Quistis, they both seemed slightly chagrined to have been caught making eyes at each other at their age. A moment later, they both raised their eyes and looked past her. Selphie moved back the zoom on the camera to reveal that Irvine had walked over to join them. He was serious for a moment, reaching for his hat and removing it from his head. He bowed deeply to his matron from long ago, Quistis bowing with him. Edea smiled and returned the bow.

Though Selphie could not hear his words, it was clear to her by his mannerisms that he was placing himself at her service and asking her if she needed anything. Edea smiled and shook her head, touching Cid's hand and whispering something to him that caused him to nod emphatically. Irvine nodded to Cid, then to Edea, and turned towards Selphie, realizing that she had caught him on tape acting out of his assumed character with his cordiality to Edea.

A smile spread across his face, and excusing himself from the others, he headed towards Selphie, stooping to stay within the camera's view as long as possible, his grin widening with each step. In a moment, he had plopped his hat down on her head and relieved her of the camera. By the time he had raised the camera to his eye, Selphie was already skipping away from him to stand next to Quistis. For several seconds, the image was sideways until he saw that Selphie was gesturing energetically for him to turn the camera.

He remained focussed on Selphie and Quistis as Selphie waved at him. Then he turned to his right and zoomed on three pretty, female cadets. He called to them and waved at them, his own waving hand appearing for a moment in the viewfinder. The three of them giggled and returned the wave.

"Irvine!" Selphie's angry face appeared right in front of him, causing him to jump a little at the rebuke. A few more admonishing words and a glare was all it took from her to bring Irvine back to task. He followed Selphie and Quistis across the room, Selphie casting a glance over her shoulder to let him know that she was watching him.

Selphie practically stumbled into Quistis in her excitement to point to someone on their right. Whatever Selphie had pointed out to her, finally caused Quistis to drop her bored, embarrassed expression and laugh.

Irvine turned to look, and in a few seconds, he was focussed on Zell sitting at a table. With him sat one of the girls from the Library. This was the one Zell liked, the one who wore her dark hair in a pigtail, though Zell would not admit to what was obvious to everyone else. She was watching him while he worked on a plate of the hot dogs of which he was so fond. In truth, he was eating them as if he was afraid that they would escape before he could consume them, his cheeks bulging from over-stuffing his mouth. A moment later, he coughed and reached for his glass, but it was empty.

Selphie and Quistis rushed to his aid as the library girl stood by and looked on with concern while his two comrades pounded him on the back repeatedly, Zell protesting all the while. They stopped and both leaned to look at him as if to assure themselves that he had recovered from his moment of overindulgence. He turned and gave them both a stare that caused them to edge away from him. When he leapt out of his chair to chase them, they both fled.

Zell did not chase them though. After lunging at them, he turned back to retrieve his girl, only she was gone. Irvine chuckled, catching Zell's attention, and almost before he could react, Zell had drawn back a fist and shown Irvine just how much he appreciated his recording of the whole incident.

When Irvine got back to his feet and restarted the camera Selphie was still bent with laughter. When she had regained her composure, she spent a few seconds looking absently for Quistis who had evidently taken advantage of the commotion to get away from her, and thus to make her escape from the camera as well. Angelo trotted past, and after a few seconds, Selphie looked after the dog. She turned to Irvine, excitedly calling his name, and pointing as she bounced on her toes.

Irvine turned slowly, trying to find what Selphie wanted him to record that had her so excited. He had it before long as the auto focus clarified the image of Rinoa. She was standing outside near the rail of a small balcony. Her hands were clasped in front of her as the wind tossed her hair slightly over her shoulders. She seemed to be looking at the night sky. Irvine hit the zoom. The battery light began to flash in the center of the image just as Rinoa turned slightly towards him and pointed at the sky with one hand.

**Chapter 9: Love Grows**

Balamb Garden hovered placidly in the sky. The huge intricate structure of the rings that comprised its anti-gravitational system moved at different speeds, two deasil and one widdershins as they supported the immensity of the floating fortress. Tiny in comparison to the rest of the structure, was a small, relatively private balcony, which overlooked the damaged section of the quad far to the left.

Standing in the central bow of the balcony, a young woman, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, leaned against the balustrade gazing at the night sky. She was dressed in a soft black sleeveless blouse and a short blue skirt. Beneath the skirt, black leggings extended to mid thigh. She wore a blue knit sleeveless jacket over the rest of her clothing. It was tied prettily at the bosom and the trailing skirt of it nearly reached her ankles behind her. Her forearms were contained within soft tubes of the same material. A strip of dark cloth was tied around her left arm.

The breeze fluttered through her dark hair revealing streaks of gold here and there, and lifted it to reveal a pair of stylized wings on the back of the jacket. Around her neck, two rings floated on an intricate chain, one a simple jade band, and the other a larger, silver one with a lion molded onto its surface. Her lips parted in apparent wonder as her eyes, dark as midnight gazed up at the starlit sky.

A meteor streaked the heavens as she watched. It's fiery path reminding her of the last time she had watched a star shooting across the night sky. She had met Squall Leonhart that night. He had been looking at the same thing, and caught her gazing up at it too. She in turn had caught him gazing at her and had pointed towards the sky where the momentary trail of brilliance had been.

Now she watched the meteor's path until it was spent and disappeared. Then, as she had once, so many months before, almost in memory of that night, she turned to her right smiling and pointed to the sky, trying to imitate the exact expression she had worn.

The young man standing next to her was still watching the sky, a slight smile of wonder curving his lips, as the breeze moved his brown hair slightly around his upturned face. The motion a few feet away caught his eye though, and he turned towards her, the smile brightening for a few seconds, before returning to the gentle smile that he had only for her. It reminded her for a moment of Laguna's easy smile, but it had a wistful, amused quality that was uniquely his.

Squall had been ill for some time after the final battle. Those hours lost in that dark place, and the harsh weeks of travel and confusion before that, had taken their toll on him as much as the battle had. However, he had recovered in time. The weight he had lost was back, along with his strength. Gone was the gauntness in his features. The scar that Seifer had given him so many months before had never healed completely, but for Squall, it had become a part of him; a reminder of who he was, who he had become. Seifer's dreams had gone so horribly awry. Many times recently, Squall had said that he hoped the other man had found peace with himself now.

Squall gazed at Rinoa. She was his dream. He just had not known it. He had very nearly lost it so many times, and he had nearly died trying to find it again. In the end, it had been Rinoa who had found him and brought him home when he had been unable to get there himself.

Squall's eyes softened, and his smile became even more gentle if that were possible. He crossed the distance between them. Reaching out to her, he took her still upward pointing arm to pull her close to him. No longer awkward, his other arm circled her waist as she stepped into his embrace. His lips met hers as easily as if he had felt this way all his life. He pulled her closer to him, never wanting to let to let her go again. How could he have ever believed that he could survive without this? Squall buried his hand in the silk of her hair, as he kissed her. He could not have. He knew it now. For him, this thing… this feeling… had become the essence of everything he understood. It had grown on him. He could never again walk away from it.


End file.
